Children
"I want Mrs Hughes …" Sybil's words rang through Glenna's mind over and over, wondering what the girl might want from her younger sister. He hadn't sounded as if it concerned the household or some personal errand, more like the desperate plea of a child. Leading her through the quiet, dark corridors, Glenna covertly observed the young lady. The girl's eyes were troubled as if she was plagued by nightmares and her skin looked sallow from little rest. Remembering the Dowager Countess' snide remarks, she knew that the youngest Crawley daughter had been affected the most by Elsie's rape. Instinctively Glenna reached out and interlaced her fingers with Sybil's.
"Don't fret, My Lady," she tried to reassure the girl, as they ghosted almost silently through the corridors. Glenna, not being familiar with the Abbey's outline, trusted Sybil to find the way for them. In no time at all they stood before Elsie's door in the attics and Glenna knocked softly against the door.
A soft 'Enter' bade them in and Sybil cautiously opened the door. When she saw the housekeeper, she was instantly reassured, but still needed to touch her to be entirely certain that Mrs Hughes was indeed safe and sound. Running forward she tightly wrapped her arms around Elsie. "I just needed to see you," she whispered brokenly. "You're still here … the evil man didn't take you away …" She sounded as frightened as a small child after the worst nightmare its mind could concoct.
Elsie's wide, shell-shocked eyes found Glenna's over the girl's heaving shoulders. "Oh, lassie, no," she reassured softly. "I'm here."
Sybil's tight arms around her were almost painful, but Elsie hadn't the heart to push her away or chide her. She simply held her, stroking the long plait down the girl's back. Her sister had sat down on her bed, a little frown on her face as she tried to puzzle out this uncommon relationship. In her letters home Elsie had indeed often mentioned the youngest lady of the House, telling a few funny anecdotes about the girl. Now Glenna saw first-hand that Elsie was far more than a domestic servant to Lady Sybil Crawley.
"You seemed so terribly far away," Sybil wailed, hiding her face in the older woman's collar bone. She timidly nuzzled her cheek, arms loosening gradually as the waves of panic and heartache subsided slowly.
"Oh no, Sybil," Elsie reassured softly. "I'm right here with you." She hung her head sadly. "I know, I wasn't quite myself lately, but you could've always come to me. It took me a while, but now I think I'm well again." She tried to smile, her eyes still dark, though. The horrible memories had been banished to the darkest corner of her soul and Charles' love, her sister's support and her employer's kindness had pieced the shattered parts of her back together. True, she had stayed away from the young ladies and her youngest maids. The reason was simple: to spare them the evidence of how ugly and unjust life could be. Elsie had always wanted to protect them, but had felt unable to in her current state. Grigg had made her feel like a hypocrite and had thus created a rift between her and her girls. Gritting her teeth grimly Elsie once more reminded herself of what Charles had said. She had seen enough evidence that her girls still respected and loved her. "I'm right here, my girl, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you before."
Sybil heaved a deep sigh and relaxed instantly against Mrs Hughes' bosom, softly saying, "I'm sorry I couldn't help you better, but I couldn't understand …" A gasp issued above her ear and she was suddenly pushed back vehemently, facing an irate Scottish Dragon. Instinctively Sybil took a further step back, slightly scared by the fierceness of the housekeeper's gaze.
"Never say that," Mrs Hughes snarled; her eyes deadly cold and her hands clenched by her sides. "I pray that none of you will ever understand this." She spat the last offending word, full of disgust and hatred. "If you could, you would have experienced the same. My nightly prayers are for you all to be safe and remain so. I would let that man do it over again to spare you a similar experience. All I want is to protect you." It was an impassioned speech, leaving Elsie breathless and dazed and her audience speechless.
Glenna could well see that her younger sister had meant every word of it; she would let that bastard have his way with her again in order to protect her charges. It was a purely maternal act of selflessness. Nodding approvingly, Glenna got up off the bed and went to hug her sister tightly. "I know exactly what you mean," she said softly, in complete agreement, "because I feel the same way. I would have taken your place to spare you, a leannan. My heart broke when I received your letter. I was inconsolable that something as horrible as that had happened to you." She exhaled, hanging her head. "Seeing you so broken nearly breaks me:"
Elsie's eyes softened immediately. Reaching out her hand, she gently cupped Glenna's cheek and made her look up at her again. This protective side was not new in her sister, but here she was housekeeper and the protector of others – had been for a long time. She had to admit it was oddly reassuring to be looked after. Her sister smiled softly, stroking Elsie's cheek with gentle fingers.
"Remember what mother used to say," she finally said with a chuckle. "You have been tested … and you know what they say: Being tested only makes you stronger." The last bit both Hughes sisters said together.
Sybil hid a wry smile. "My mother always says that, too," she mumbled. "I'm not entirely sure if it's of much comfort, though."
Elsie's steady gaze calmly met hers. "It is," she affirmed, "and it's also true; I do feel stronger than before." Before either woman had a change to interrupt her, she raised her hand to silence them. "If that man … couldn't break me, nothing else will." Her voice was steely grim, her eyes hard. "I thought I was broken, but the love of a good, honourable man healed me." A tender smile softened her features as she contemplated her fiancé. "My family and friends standing by me saved me from depression and giving up entirely. It made my bond to you all stronger and by extension me."
Sybil beamed at her. "You are the strongest person I know, Mrs Hughes," she gushed out. "When I grow up I want to be very much like you."
Glenna's eyes leaked tears of gratitude and happiness. She had feared for her sister, but now she saw a new fierce fire in the depths of Elsie's vivid blue eyes. Obviously she had been changed by her ordeal; she wasn't the distant, unapproachable bulwark anymore, instead she was more protective and maternal. Glenna had long since guessed that Elsie's view of her charges was more like a mother's or aunt's instead of that of a superior. Her encounter with Grigg had made her more emotional and both the love for Mr Carson and said mothering tendencies were now pouring out of her. "I always knew why I admired you so, Elsie," she agreed quietly, smiling at both her sister and young Lady Sybil.
oOoOoOo
Charles, too, had a Lady of the house seek him out. A soft knock on his door had alerted him to the presence of a visitor. Looking up he was somewhat surprised to find Lady Mary downstairs. Hastily he got to his feet, rounding his desk.
"My Lady, how can I help you?" he asked, always the eager butler. "Is there something troubling you?"
Mary began to shake her head with a polite, but meaningless smile and a platitude on her lips before she stopped herself with a frown. She hesitated for a moment then shrugged and asked directly and without warning, "Why are you marrying her?"
"Mrs Hughes?" Charles was genuinely taken aback. "I don't see how that is any concern of yours." He sounded harsher than he had intended. Something about the young lady's tone chafed him, made him defensive.
Trying to appease her old champion, Mary smiled charmingly at him. Her hands were spread in the universal gesture of 'I do you no harm'. "I only meant that if it truly is from a sense of obligation, we could free you from that and find another solution for Mrs Hughes. You wouldn't need to sacrifice your life like that."
Charles felt white hot anger flare in him. His fists clenched by his sides and for the first time in her spoilt life, he glared at Lady Mary. With frosty coldness in his eyes he challenged her, "Did it never occur to you that I look forward to marrying Mrs Hughes and feel deeply honoured by her trust?"
Mary's head snapped back and her eyes went wide at the coldness in Carson's voice. He had never spoken to her that way. She realized that she may have offended him. "So you truly want this?" she asked; her voice timid now and clogged with unshed tears.
Charles simply nodded not dignifying this question with a verbal answer. Mary stared at him then continued in a bitter voice, "But she'll ruin you. People will talk and your hard-earned reputation will suffer …"
Charles felt bile rise in his throat as he interrupted Mary sternly, "Enough! If they talk, they'll say that I fathered her child and that we had a prior affaire, that the only reason we're getting married is because our affaire was uncovered. It will more likely be my behaviour that ruins Mrs Hughes' reputation with talk like that. I won't have it, though!" Then he looked shrewdly at Mary and cocked his head to the side, eyeing her suspiciously. "That's not really what is bothering you."
It was all the encouragement Mary needed to blurt out, "You cannot love her child. What mother said is true; it's a bastard." She didn't see Charles ground his teeth or the dangerous glint in his eyes as he fought the urge to slap the young woman. She was old enough to understand the hateful, damaging words she spoke. "You can't love the child," she repeated, more to herself than to him. "You love me and you promised you'll always be there for me. There's no room for a wife and child."
And the scales fell off Charles' eyes. The spoilt brat was jealous! He couldn't believe it. She was jealous of Mrs Hughes and their unborn child. His eyes narrowed and his heart turned cold and unfeeling. "I see now that I was misled in my belief in you, My Lady," he said coldly. "I always thought that you regarded me as fondly as I regarded you. "His use of the past tense was not lost on Mary and her eyes filled with tears. "I honestly thought that you would support me as I have always supported you. I see now that I had been wrong. You are selfish and cold-hearted. Now I ask you to listen because I will only say it once: I will marry Mrs Hughes, I will her child's father and I will love them both with all my heart, but I will not have them discredited by anyone."
After his speech, silence hang in the air of his office. Mary didn't dare to say anything, not even knowing how to respond to such devotion and passion. "But what will I do?" Mary at last asked in a wail, nothing like the in control, self-assured young woman she liked to present to others. Her eyes were filled with tears and a pleading look in their depths.
Charles closed his own eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, before he fixed her with a steady gaze and beckoned her forward, into his arms. Then he murmured quietly, "You have grown too dependent on me, My Lady, but truth be told you don't need me as much as you once did. Let me find my happiness with the woman I have respected and loved longer than I care to admit."
Mary's head against his chest nodded, but tears still silently tracked down her face. "Will you still allow me to come to you?" she asked softly. "To you and Mrs Carson … maybe see the baby …"
Charles wrapped his arms around her shoulders and stroked her hair softly. "You are always welcome," he assured her. "But you have to live your own life. Make your own mistakes and take responsibility for them … only then you'll be truly an adult."
Again a shy nod answered him. Then, with an energetic push, Mary straightened her spine and nodded more decisively. "I have fought your corner, Carson, and I will continue to do so. Please forgive me my moment of foolish weakness … it must be my American side." She attempted a wry smile. This was far more emotions than either she or Carson were used to.
Her trusty butler gave a low chuckle and then a slight bow in her direction. "I'm glad were back in agreement, My Lady, but now you should go back upstairs. I will accompany you as I have to do my final rounds."
oOoOoOo
Meanwhile the women upstairs in the attics had calmed after their own emotional upheaval. All three of them sat on Elsie's bed, Sybil tucked snugly in between both older women. Her head was leaning against Mrs Hughes' shoulder while her hands fiddled with the engagement ring on the housekeeper's right hand. Only half awake now she drowsily listened to the softly spoken words over her head. Their brogue was calming even as it made it slightly harder to understand their words. Sybil gave up on the conversation entirely as Mrs Murray began to stroke her back.
"We should probably get her to her bed," she suggested quietly, "and you'll need your sleep, too."
"Aye, you're right," Elsie agreed readily enough, her own eyes drooping. Being pregnant tired her out much quicker than usual. Carefully she shifted Sybil to an upright position, before getting to her feet slowly. "I'll walk you two to your rooms and have a quick drink in the kitchen."
Sybil clambered ungainly to her feet and stumbled to the door while Glenna helped Elsie into her morning robe. Together they slowly walked to the guest wing where the two Hughes sisters hugged each other and kissed good night. After the door had closed behind Glenna Elsie tenderly slung her arm around Sybil's shoulders, steering her gently into the direction of her own rooms. They passed the girls' old nursery on their way, making Elsie smile fondly. She found it also highly amusing that all three ladies acted all grown-up, but lived only two doors down from their nursery.
Finally they reached Sybil's bed chamber. The tired girl threw off her robe and unceremoniously climbed up into her bed. Elsie smothered a fond smile as she leaned in to kiss Sybil's forehead. After tucking the sheets in around the girl, Elsie was about to turn around and quietly leave the room when Sybil's hand grasped her wrist and stopped her.
"Mrs Hughes, may I please feel the baby," she asked insecurely.
Elsie blinked in surprise before a huge smile formed on her lips and she sat down next to Sybil, nodding her assent. She watched in fascination as Sybil propped herself up on one elbow eagerly and then lowered her other hand onto Elsie's slightly protruding belly. Her eyes gleamed even in the dimness of the room, the only light coming from the candle Elsie had brought in with her. The soft swirls indulged Sybil as the baby moved. The girl's eyes widened and a giddy giggle escaped her lips.
"Oh, that tickled," she exclaimed quietly, beaming up at Elsie. "Edith told me that she felt me in Mother's belly and I was sorry that I'm the youngest and couldn't feel it myself. Now I have, though. Thank you very much, Mrs Hughes." Then she spontaneously leaned forward until her mouth was beside Elsie's stomach. "Good night, little one," she whispered, bringing tears to Elsie's eyes. Soon her own eyes closed and the regular breathing pattern told Elsie that Sybil had fallen asleep at long last.
oOoOoOo
Charles had just bid Mary goodnight in front of her door and closed it behind her when he saw his fiancé exiting Lady Sybil's room and silently close the door behind her. He softly called her name, drawing her attention to him, and watched as a brilliant smile lit up her whole face.
"What are you doing here, Charles," she asked quietly, coming over to him and hugging him fiercely. Her emotions were still high from her little cuddle with Sybil just now and she needed some steadying.
Chuckling and cuddling Elsie closer to him, Charles responded teasingly, "I could ask you the same, my darling. As it happened I was needed to bolster one's confidence." Funnily enough Charles believed Elsie's sincerity for once. She had always been perceptive and kind.
"Is it because of our impending marriage?" she asked shrewdly.
Charles did a double-take, pushing Elsie a little away from him to stare down at her. "How did you know?" he demanded truly baffled. He had rather hoped to keep that detail from Elsie. She wasn't too fond of Mary at the best of times, but knowing even a small part of what Mary had said in his pantry would ruin every respect she had for the oldest Crawley daughter.
"Well, she's very fond of you and the thought of suddenly sharing you must upset her.," Elsie remarked wisely, eyeing Charles wryly. "I hope she was not too harsh with her words … I mean I can imagine what she might have said. That I'm a fallen woman, soiled now and unworthy of you …" She had no chance to finish her sentence as she was swept up in a bear hug and tender lips sealed hers, swallowing any more vile words she might come up with to describe herself.
Charles' answer was fierce. "You're not dirty, you're not soiled. You are the most beautiful woman in my eyes," he said proudly. "You better start believing me …"
Elsie shushed him now with a finger to his lips. "I do believe you, Charles, but it might be other people's opinion." She stroked her cheek with her hand, calming her big protector. "What else did she say then?" she asked, not unkindly.
"I think she was worried that I wouldn't be able to love you and her," he sighed.
This drew a chuckle from his fiancé. "As if you would ever stop loving that girl," she whispered. "There is nothing the uppity minx could do to turn you against her."
An answering twinkle appeared in Charles' eyes. "The same goes for you and Ladies Sybil and Edith," he teased light-heartedly. For a moment he was quiet before he gave a low laugh and dropped his head until his forehead lay against hers. "I have been thinking," he announced finally.
"Mhm," Elsie inquired, not too terribly interested unless it involved more of him holding her close.
"I believe we will make fine parents with all the practising we have already done. Look at our three surrogate daughters; they have turned out to be lovely young women, haven't they?" His brown puppy dog eyes locked on hers, seeking reassurance.
Elsie's heart squeezed upon hearing him refer to the young ladies as their daughters. She had to admit, though, that it held a certain grain of truth. They had both done more of the actual raising than Lord and Lady Grantham had done. If the daughters of the house were credits to their family then it was their merit. "I think you're onto something there," she conceded, "but I think it will still be different when our own child arrives." It was the first time she readily called her unborn child theirs.
Charles smiled soppily at her. "Yes, it will and that is why I have had this made for you," he told her gravely. "I have been pondering when to give it to you. Here amongst our surrogate children and in front of the old nursery; I believe it's the perfect time and place." One arm was still around her waist as his other hand retrieved a knotted handkerchief from the pocket on his waistcoat. With trepidation he handed it to Elsie, watching anxiously as she frowned a little but took it nonetheless.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she unknotted the crisp white linen. Inside the handkerchief a small, but beautifully crafted, brooch nestled against its folds. Elsie instantly recognized the design. It was in the shape of a Gaelic motherhood symbol with a small sapphire splinter carefully cradled in its middle. A sob worked its way up her throat and her eyes misted over. She couldn't form any coherent words, not that any would even come close to expressing her gratitude properly. Instead she lunged herself at Charles, wrapping her arms around his neck as she drew up on her tiptoes. Her lips were soft and demanding at the same time as she kissed him passionately. "I love you," she whispered between kisses.